


Interplay

by Anonymouspotato



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Disguise, Dresses, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, Romance, Secret Identity, Yasha Nydoorin is Best Wingwoman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22608193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouspotato/pseuds/Anonymouspotato
Summary: The war is over, and it’s time to celebrate. But the celebration leads to an unexpected revelation.
Relationships: Caleb Widogast & Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	Interplay

“You’re sure you want to stay here?” Beau pulled the simple blue mask over her eyes and turned towards the bed. 

Caleb hefted his book. “Positive.”

In order to celebrate the signing of the most historic peace treaty in decades, the nobles of the Dwendalian Empire has gone all out on the festivities-a masquerade ball was being held in Castle Ungebroch, and the esteemed Mighty Nein were the guests of honor. Two of their members, however, were choosing not to attend.

Fjord poked his head in the room, dressed in a navy blue suit with a mask made of fake seashells. “If you’re ready, First Mate, we should be heading out soon. Jester’s getting antsy.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Beau saluted playfully, and put on her dress shoes (she’d refused to wear heels). She was dressed in her Expositor robes, and her hair was down. She turned to Yasha and Caleb. “At least see us off?”

“Of course, Beauregard.” Frumpkin nipping at their heels, the group descended downstairs.

Caduceus was wearing a magenta and green suit with an insectoid sheen, and a mask like tangled vines. Nott - well, Veth - was wearing a porcelain half mask over the top of her face etched with shimmering blue lines that mimicked her tattoo and a bright red dress. 

And Jester - Jester was a vision. She was wearing a ball gown made of shimmering whites, pale blues, and lavenders, cut and crimped angularly, splaying out like an icy crystal over one shoulder. Her mask was made in a similar fashion. Her horns were covered with light blue sleeves and silver jewelry, and her hair was loose, braided with tiny rubies that clicked as she turned her head. She looked like an ethereal ice princess.

Caleb had to try very hard to avoid turning pinker than Cad’s hair when she grabbed his hands. “Cayleeeeeb. Yashaaaaaaa. _Pleeeeeeaaaaaase_ go with us.”

“Thank you for offering Jester, but we are alright.” Yasha glanced over at him.

“Yes. I probably should not be there anyway. You-Know-Who will probably be present.”

Jester pouted, but nodded. “Alright. I’ll just have three times the fun for you guys!” She skipped out into the street.

Caleb looked over at Veth. “You have fun too, alright?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” She followed Jester into the street.

After their group left, Caleb and Yasha returned to their room at the Camarouth Cottage. They sat for a few minutes. They read. Caleb paced _a lot._ At 10:37 exactly, he started to get nervous.

“Yasha, this is a terrible idea.”

“I know.”

“We never should have done this.”

“I know that as well.”

“Why am I doing this?”

“Because you love her.” Yasha closed her book and stood, offering him her hand. “Would you like to practice one more time?”

Caleb frowned, but took her hand and let her haul him to his feet. “Why not?”

The clasped their hands together, and Caleb hummed an old waltz piece from his childhood as he led her in small circles around the room. Picking dancing back up again was sort of like picking casting back up again. It was just a matter of getting back into the rhythm of the movements. And Yasha was a natural.

“You have gotten much better.” Yasha let him go and sat in the chair by the window. “Now, shouldn’t you be getting ready? You’re going to be late.”

Caleb sighed, sat back down on the bed, and pulled out his spell book.

At 11:04, Jester broke away from the man she’d been dancing with as the piece came to an end, quietly applauding the musicians as she fled to the side of the room. He had been a decent dancer, but he was terrible conversation. Why did no one in this city like dick jokes? This was supposed to be a _party,_ after all!

As she settled in a chair next to Veth, who was slowly drinking from a glass of wine, she sighed and put her chin in her fists. “When is the _real_ party going to start?”

“It already has.” Veth sipped the drink. “Most fancy parties are really boring, it’s the not fancy ones that are super fun.”

“Maybe we should ditch and go to a not fancy party.”

“What? No! You’ll ruin your dress!”

A murmur rippled through the room, and Jester followed it to the source. When she found it, her eyes widened, and her jaw nearly dropped.

Walking down the stairs was a brunette man dressed in a spectacular costume. He was wearing a military style suit made of fabric that rippled between reds, oranges, and golds, with flame like golden embroidery, and a mask that stretched out like bird wings. It was vibrant and gaudy, but not _so_ gaudy that it was obnoxious.

Veth gasped, and tugged lightly on her skirt. “He’s trying to upstage your costume!”

“What?”

“Go! Establish dominance!” Veth pushed her forward in the direction of the mystery man. Oh well, at least this was more interesting. She approached the man, who was standing at the bottom of the entrance surveying the scene, and puffed up her chest.

The man stared at her. She stared at the man. And she held it in for all of seven seconds before she busted a gut laughing.

The man chuckled. “That is...an introduction.” He had a light Zemnian accent. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“Jester! Jester Lavorre!” She stuck a hand out at him.

His eyes darted between her fingers and her eyes, before he shook her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Lavorre. My name is Philip.”

Jester grinned. The band began to play another song; a jaunty, cheerful waltz. 

“May I...er...may I have this dance?” He blushed a little. Jester’s smile widened, and she tugged him onto the floor.

Philip turned out to be an excellent dancer. They spun each other around the room like they were on clouds. It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of the movement and the crowd.

After the music came to its final chord, Philip stepped backward to the edge of the dance floor. Curious, Jester followed him, and sat next to him as he nibbled on some mushroom-y horderves. “So, why are you here at this lame party anyway?”

“Lame?”

“Yeah! Nobody’s having any fun.”

“I think it’s meant to be a serious affair, J-Miss Lavorre. We’re here to honor the sacrifice of those who died on the road to peace, after all.”

“That does make sense. I don’t think I would mind it if my funeral was a party. Are you going to answer my question?”

“I came because…” Jester held in a snicker. Philip gave her what she could only call an affectionate stink eye. “Because I wanted to honor the new peace, and the people who brought it to us.”

“The Mighty Nein?”

“Yes.”

“Have you heard anything about the Mighty Nein, Philip?”

He grinned. “A few things. Their accomplishments, mostly.”

She leaned forward, grin widening. “Tell me your _favorite_ stories about them.”

Philip leaned forward as well, and went into a fairly accurate retelling of the Battle of Whitedawn Lagoon. It went on like that for almost an hour, the two of them talking, dancing, and partaking in a bit of wine. Well, Philip did, Jester stuck to the punch.

At 11:53, at the end of a third dance, Philip gently pulled her to the edge of the dance floor and broke away. “I’m afraid I have to leave, Miss Lavorre. Thank you for the evening, it’s been wonderful.”

“Aw, that’s a shame, Philip. Are you sure you have to go?”

“Very. I-” He flapped his hands a little. Jester raised an eyebrow. “Thank you. Goodnight.” He turned on his heel and rushed out the front door.

Jester frowned, and looked over to see Fjord watching her from the other side of the room. She gave him a slight nod, then reached into a hidden pocket in the folds of her dress, gripped the symbol of the Traveler she’d hidden there, and followed Philip outside. They’d all made sure that they would have what they needed if a fight broke out. Just in case.

The symbol warmed in her palm as a purplish mist spilled out from the bottom of her gown, muffling her footsteps and making eyes slide off her. As she ran out the front entrance, rain started to pitter-patter on her head, rolling off the gems in her hair. She caught a glimpse of a technicolor suit dashing down another alley, and chased after it. 

Philip was fast, but she was faster, even in heels. He wound his way through the back streets and hidden passageways of the Shimmer Ward, staying as out of sight as possible. He still hadn’t seen her. Eventually, though, some of the landmarks started to seem familiar. With a small gasp, she realized where he was headed. The Camarouth Cottage.

“Philip!” She shouted. “Philip, wait!” She hiked up her skirts. Distantly, a clocktower’s bell began to ring. Philip’s head whipped around, eyes widening as they finally landed on her. He picked up speed, and ducked behind the cottage.

“Philip, stop! _Cayleb!”_

He froze, and turned to face her. The last bell bonged. Ripples of greenish-yellow energy shimmered across his form, the sign of dropped Disguise Self. Short, brown hair became long and coppery. Green eyes turned blue. He shrank two inches. And the spectacular suit became simple, worn Xhorhasian robes.

Caleb stared down at his feet. “Jester, I...how did you know it was me?”

Jester smiled. Her hair was sticking to her face, her makeup was smeared, and her skirt had turned an unappealing yellowish brown. “Cayleb. You’re very, very smart.” She stepped forward, and put a hand on his cheek. “But you’re not a very good actor.” 

And her mouth was on his, and she was _kissing him, and he was kissing her back._

Upstairs, Yasha was reading one of Caleb’s old books, when she heard a quiet tapping on the window. She glanced up, and saw Frumpkin mewling and looking outside. She walked over to the window, and looked down. Jester and Caleb were pressed together in the pouring rain, dripping wet and kissing like the world would end the next morning. 

Frumpkin meowed again, and held out a paw towards her. Yasha smiled, and gently tapped her hand against it. “Nice job.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn’t clear, Jester cast Pass Without A Trace on herself. I hope you enjoyed this adorable nonsense!


End file.
